Ghiscar Rising
by OlafTheBilbao
Summary: With all of Slavers Bay in anarchy, a vengeful former son of a master sets out on a mission to restore the grand Ghiscari Empire. At first, Mashaq must struggle to get himself out of virtual slavery to enter into the Essosian "Game of Thrones". Bonds will be formed and quickly broken, love will hastily come and go, and difficult decisions will be faced to insure Ghiscar will rise.


Author's Note

This fanfiction will mostly be set in the continent of Essos, specifically the area around Slavers Bay (Meereen, Yunkai, and Astapor). Please feel free to message me privately or leave a review or two. If people really like this, I will be happy to continue Chapter II.

Introduction

Slavery, a practice that is as old as people itself. From the founding of the Ghiscari Empire and before, to the modern day slavers of Slavers Bay, the capture and use of people that inhabit Essos is an integral part of humanity. In this cruel world, you are the hunter or the hunted. For many decades the Valyrian dragon lords ruled over Slavers Bay and left Ghis in ruin. However, through a divine act, Valyria was doomed and its kingdoms divided. Despite ample opportunity given to the "Ghiscari" descendants to re-establish their once great empire, the fat Valyrian speaking traitors left our great culture divided through greed and petty differences. The Dothraki horse hoards did not make the situation any better, through capturing our harpy worshiping brethren in the north and selling them as "slaves" in the south. Yet, all these events were nothing compared to the doom bringing Targaryen.

Left bitter was the grand Ghiscari city of Astapor, a proud city reduced to being run by a puppet of the blond Targaryen who brought downfall to the once proud people of Astapor. The slaves now held immense power, and with that power, a reign of terror gripped the conquered city. Besides the massacre of the masters at the hands of the Unsullied and the mass crucifixions that dotted the city, Astapor faced the merciless junta headed by Cleon the Butcher. The freedmen ran across the city rampaging and looting fellow freedmen and masters alike. Although beneficial for those who were previously in bondage, the sons and daughters of the deposed masters, even sympathizers of the old regime of Astapor grew vengeful. Through this vengeance, resistance movements to unseat the second Valyrian puppet to the throne of Astapor grew.

The Slums of Astapor

Out of the chaos, a master's son patiently waited. It had been two years since the Valyrian doom bringer sacked and occupied Astapor. The man wore only a raged, and poorly washed toga like dress. His sandals were worn and badly dilapidated, possibly due to the fact of spending long hours in the copper mines of Astapor to atone for the sins of his father. Besides his broken honor and poor dress, the man owned one other thing, his family pendant. This impressive item was the only thing, besides himself, he had not sold away to get by. Etched into the elegant harpy shaped pendant was presumably his family name, Mashaq. Of course the item was not worn publicly, due to the risk of theft at the hands of thieving freedmen or even desperate former masters.

Mashaq walked the poor and pitiful streets of Astapor with only his family pendant and a few coppers stowed away under his dress. He was to sleep under a bridge and report to the Astapor copper mines and repeat this process every day until he was to die. The back breaking (essentially slave) work took a toll on his barely adult body. Already in the past year, Mashaq severely broke his left hand, requiring the amputation of his ring finger. The overseer, a former mining pit slave, nearly put Mashaq to death for being unable to work. However, a stranger amongst the crowd volunteered to work double the shift for the injured man. The man turned out to be a freedman, and the two became close friends, even inhabiting the same bridge together.

Mashaq addressed the man as Azir. His vocation was a miner that was to forever work in the Astapor copper mines. Although new leaders were put in place, in Azir's case, nothing changed, with the exception of a more brutal overseer. Due to the mines being open pit, Azir developed a strong copper skin complexion from the substantial sunlight he was exposed to from birth. The constant physical exertion in the slave mines of Astapor allowed Azir to have quite a muscular build, at least in comparison to Mashaq. In a few months, Mashaq taught the formerly illiterate Azir how to read and write in Low Valyrian. Azir was the only person Mashaq could trust in this new world. Azir was more crafty and street smart, allowing him to easily acquire food and items through unfavorable means. He always looked after Mashaq, making sure he would never go a night hungry.

Slavers Bridge

Mashaq made it to his squatter's camp without incident. In their ramshackle hut, Azir was already preparing chickpea gruel, a common dish they had been eating for the past two weeks.

"So Mashaq, lose any fingers today my friend?" said Azir in a sarcastic tone.

"Not yet Azir, but if you piss me off, I will make sure to have an accident so you can work that double shift again." said Mashaq.

"What makes you so certain I would take those shifts for you?" asked Azir while smiling.

"Because you're a friend, and that's what friends do. Anyway, how are those reading lessons going?" said Mashaq while he slumped to the ground.

"Great, I've been reading about the great houses of Westeros." said Azir.

"Have you?" smirked Mashaq.

"Yes, but I don't understand one thing. Why all he fighting over a throne. It makes no difference, a good king, or a bad king, it makes no difference." said Azir while finishing the final touches of the chickpea gruel.

"Well, it's a long story I really don't want to explain right now." said Mashaq with a sunken face while also extending his hand for the bowl of gruel.

"Over here at least, it makes no difference. The breaker of chains arrived, and we did have our chains broken, but only for a short time." proclaimed Azir while he passed the gruel to Mashaq.

The two dug into their gruel, the only real nourishment they would receive in the whole day. Azir glanced at Mashaq while the two "enjoyed" their meal.

"So Mashaq, as long as I've known you, you have not really told me about yourself." said Azir, in an attempt to break the silence.

"What is there to know, I was the son of a master." said Mashaq unimpressively.

"There is more to the story." said Azir.

"I regret teaching you, you're just asking too many questions." said Mashaq while laughing.

"Well, if you want to tell me, I'll always be ready to hear it. If it makes you feel better, let me explain to you my story again." said Azir.

"No you..." Mashaq was interrupted.

"I was born simply as Azir, the son of a whore mother and nameless father. The story goes, I was sold to the Astapor mines while the umbilical cord was still attached to me.", Azir paused for a few seconds to gather his thoughts. "Like an animal, I was gifted to the family of the master of the Astapor copper mines. My master mhysa was kind and always gave me extra food, she took care of me until I was nine. Now that I think about it, she probably treated my slave ass well because she couldn't have children of her own." smirked Azir. "At nine years of age, I was given my first pick. I remember this well, because the first day, the overseer whipped me until I understood what I was to do." said Azir.

"You don't have to ex-", said Mashaq while being interrupted again.

"At sixteen years of age, the breaker of chains appeared. It was a sight to remember. Us slaves, we were all high on power when the Unsullied gave us those spears." Azir took another pause and closed his eyes. "I broke into the master's house. Her husband was missing, but I saw my master mhysa. She smiled and happily said my name... I smiled and when she turned her back to get some tea, I drove the spear into her back." said Azir with a tear rolling down his eye. "She was nice to me, but I killed her. To this day, I wonder why the gods have not punished me for what I've done. It is something I cannot even explain."

Mashaq shook his head and placed his hand on Azir's shoulder and said, "What is done is done. We are new people now in a new world. The best we could do now is survive." Azir looked down and the two called it a night. When Azir fell asleep, Mashaq took Azir's four-inch dagger and walked away from the bridge. It would be the last time, at least in Mashaq's mind, he would ever see Azir. He could not let Azir interfere with his own vengeful ambitions. Under the cover of the pitch darkness of night time, Mashaq made his way to the Astapor mines.

Astapor Copper Mines

Mashaq reached the Astapor copper mines, unmolested. With great stealth, Mashaq navigated the property of the mine overseer. His intentions were clear, to kill the man. Mashaq had never killed a man, but he knew he had to start somewhere to launch his vengeful plot. He kept telling himself, *"The slaves are the new masters, it is my duty to reverse this."* In his mind, those very words repeated while he crept up the stairs. As Mashaq slowly opened the door, a horrific sight was reviled. The overseer and his wife were nailed to the wall and strung out as if they were on a cross. Their eyes were both gouged out and a nasty cut that went across their stomachs were visible. Their intestines littered the room, some parts also hung on the wall. Just as Mashaq turned around to leave the room a person with a black robe and a harpy mask appeared, blocking the doorway. In his hands was a sleeping baby.

"I know who you are, Gregk mo Mashaq." said the cloaked figure with obvious interference from the mask.

"Who are you!" cried Mashaq in fear.

"As of now, that is none of your concern. The mission here is to use your dagger and behead this bastard slave child." said the figure in a monotone voice.

Mashaq glanced at the baby and then to his dagger. Could he really kill this child he thought to himself? After a solid minute of pondering, Mashaq drove his dagger into the heart of the child and proceeded to behead him. The figure slowly crept back and said, "You are ready." Mashaq placed the detached head and body of the child on the bed of the overseer. He snapped back into realized what he had done. He muttered to himself, "Oh shit", and threw the dagger out of the window and ran. What felt like one hour in the house was in reality, four hours. Dawn was fast approaching and Mashaq ran as if he was being chased by a dragon. His ragged robe was covered in blood from the horrific scene. Vendors started to open up shop in the slums. Mashaq was running out of time.

Mashaq sprinted through the slums, attempting to get back to the bridge, but to no avail. He started to become lightheaded and his vision fuzzy. A crowd of on lookers started to gather, most just waking up. Mashaq kept running, but at this point, he was disorientated and had no direction what so ever. He started to see a bleak blackness take over his sight. There was nothing he could do. His muscles started to loosen and he fell to the ground, causing a noticeable thump noise in the city street. With the minimal strength her had left, he started to slowly craw. Some onlookers started to shout for help, but the majority just stood and stared at Mashaq. Two Unsullied men, in full armor and armed with spears arrived on the scene. Mashaq's vision grew foggier, the Unsullied men were talking, but he could not make out any of the words. Mashaq lost total consciousness and a larger crowd started to gather. The two Unsullied rolled him over to his front side and discovered the pool of blood that covered his dress.


End file.
